


I Hate Me

by Derpyhecc



Category: Sally Face - Fandom
Genre: Depression, Sad, Swearing, implied self harm, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 09:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18808585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Derpyhecc/pseuds/Derpyhecc
Summary: Sal Fisher has come to the realization that he hates himself.





	I Hate Me

**Author's Note:**

> Oh Hewwo I’m new and I have the big sad  
> I’m lazy so I didn’t edit  
> Pls forgive me and enjoy this shit show

Sal closed the door to his apartment, sluggishly moving towards the kitchen. In the process, he lazily shed his backpack; one strap still in his left hand. The blue headed boy went to whip open the fridge although he noticed a note pressed to the white surface with a magnet. The magnet clicked back onto the fridge after sal removed the lined paper, his one working eye moving down the page.

“Sal,  
I know I said I’d cook dinner tonight but I got called into work. I’m not sure when I’ll be home but I know it won’t be before 9:00. I left $40 on the counter if you want to order pizza. I’m sure Lisa wouldn’t mind having you over either. Stay safe. 

Love, Dad”

A long yet quiet sigh left his lips. 

“Fucking wonderful.”

He muttered to himself. Of course he couldn’t blame his dad... They needed the money and dad needed the hours. What could he do? Well.... other than deny the call into work and actually spend some time with his son. 

Sal placed the note on the counter next to the refrigerator. He proceeded with his unfinished quest. His blue eye darted around the yellowish insides of the fridge. Milk, eggs, a few leftover boxes, an... apple maybe? But where was the applesauce? It was the easiest yet most enjoyable thing he could eat while still having the comfort of his prosthetic against his face. 

“Damnit... you gotta be kidding me...”

Another annoyed sigh left him. Henry must’ve ate the last applesauce or something... despite the fact Sal had written his name on each individual applesauce cup. 

“Whatever...”

He grumbled and trudged over to his room, practically kicking open the door and tossing his backpack to the side. Once he entered his room, he closed the door... practically slamming it. He stopped in his tracks and blinked a few times. Why was he so... angry? School wasn’t bad... The gang was good... what was bothering him. 

Sal shuffled over to his bed and sat down. He slowly unclipped his prosthetic, grabbing the chin of the white plaster and then setting it on the bed gently. His right hand traveled up to his mangled face, feeling all of the ridges and lines. He then buried his face into his warm hands, groaning somewhat. 

“I hate this.”

He said, moving from his hands and then looking at the prosthetic. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. 

“I hate... me.”

His voice cracked as raw sorrow radiated from his body. It was absolutely overwhelming. The amount of hurt he had kept in for so long oozing out of him. 

His body trembled as loud sobs echoed through the room. He looked over once more at his prosthetic. A sudden anger and hatred built inside his body. His gut twisted and turned, tying itself into a knot. His fingers tightly grasped his mask and he let out a cry of hatred, hurling the plaster face at the wall across from him. His nails drug into the sweaty palm belonging to his left hand. Sal let out a shaky breath before his body seemed to go limp. He practically dragged himself onto the bed, prying the covers from underneath his body and throwing them over his head.

“Just kill me...”

He whispered to himself, sniffling as he took the elastic bands out of his hair. He slid the bands onto his left wrist and stared at them intently. His right pointer finger and thumb grabbed one of the navy blue bands and pulled it back. After a moment, he let it go. The elastic pulled itself forwards and smacked against his soft skin. He barely winced, repeating the process. 

As he continued, he wished the band was rubber. Rubber would actually make him bleed, unlike the fabric elastic. The worst it would do is leave a red welt on his wrist. Maybe... if he broke a razor... he could use a blade from it. He could just blame Gizmo... but... no. He didn’t have the motivation to, which was great in this circumstance. 

His little blanket cocoon was getting humid, making it somewhat hard to breathe. He turned onto his side and curled up, opening up a hole in his blanket. He was glad that he didn’t turn on the light. The darkness in his room was comforting. He moved his head so he could look out from the hole. Sal spotted his walkie talkie but decided against reaching for it. He wouldn’t dare bother Larry. The raw emotion would just drag the other down. And Sal didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to be a nuisance.

He didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. The only thing he could do now... was sleep. It called his name, dragging him into the darkness. 

He only hoped he wouldn’t have a nightmare.


End file.
